


rotten bastards

by subjectiveobjection



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M, frank burns eats worms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 02:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19821076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjectiveobjection/pseuds/subjectiveobjection
Summary: just hawkeye and trapper being Little Shits(TM)





	rotten bastards

“I honestly think that Korea might be the most boring place on earth,” Hawkeye says, tossing the ball over to Trapper. The rain patters down on the tent for the fifth day in a row, and Hawkeye spots yet another leak in the fabric.  _ I’ll get it later, _ he tells himself, knowing full well that he will not.

“Nope. Those would be my church’s sermons,” Trapper replies, throwing the ball back. “Or one of Frank’s impromptu seminars.”

“But those take place in Korea.” Hawkeye briefly considers throwing the ball at the coffee pot. Just to stir things up.

“They  _ could _ take place somewhere else,” Trapper says. “And what’re you waiting for with that ball?”

“So demanding,” Hawkeye says. He chucks the ball over. “When is the supply room gonna be free?”

Trapper grins. “Appreciate your enthusiasm-”

“Well, I appreciate your dick,” Hawkeye says with an exaggerated wink.

Trapper snorts.  _ “But- _ and  _ don’t _ make a pun about that- right now, it’s inventory time.”

“And who might we owe the pleasure of twice-weekly inventory, instead of just once-weekly?” Hawkeye asks, his brain already starting to whir.

“Our favorite Major,” Trapper says, his left eyebrow arching. “You want to show him how  _ grateful _ we are?”

“We would be remiss not to,” Hawkeye replies. “I think we should give him a gift basket. Or something like it, anyway.”

“Y’know, we still have a lot of shaving cream left over from filling Frank’s footlocker,” Trapper suggests.

“Let’s go bigger, then,” Hawkeye says.

“Sleeping bag?”

“Why, that is an absolutely  _ fantastic _ idea,” Hawkeye says, feigning shock. “When did you manage to grow a brain?”

“I’m wounded,” Trapper deadpans. “Anyway, do you want to go get set up?”

Hawkeye grins and hops off the bed, holding a hand out to Trapper. “I thought you’d never ask.”

…

At three in the morning, Radar creeps into the Swamp and wakes Hawkeye and Trapper. It’s very unwelcome, at least in Hawkeye’s opinion, and given Trapper’s groan of, “What the fuck’re you  _ doing?” _ he agrees.

“Waking you up. Just like you asked, sirs. Uh, I’m gonna leave now,” Radar says, casting a worried glance over at Frank. Hawkeye waves goodbye as Radar half-scurries away. He looks over at Trapper, whose golden curls are so mussed that he can’t help but smile a little.

“And what’re you smilin’ at?”

“Your face,” Hawkeye says, trying to make it sound like grade-school teasing instead of a proclamation of adoration.

Trapper grins, and the combination of sleepiness and lechery makes Hawkeye nearly burst out laughing. “Your face isn’t so bad either.”

“I’m blushing,” Hawkeye says sarcastically. He chucks a pillow at Trapper. “Now get your lazy ass up and out of bed.”

It takes more than a few minutes for them to clamber out of their sleeping bags, but finally, they’re up and ready. Hawkeye pulls the shitload of shaving cream out from under the bed, careful not to disturb any of the rainwater-collecting buckets (he had  _ not _ gotten around to procuring a new one for the latest leak), and he and Trapper set to work.

Finally, they get the last vestiges of shaving cream into the bag. “One good thing about this damn rain is that it gives us good background noise,” Hawkeye whispers. “Or else he’d have probably woken up.”

“Speaking of rain, let’s go outside and let it wash away all this mess,” Trapper whispers, holding up his shaving-cream-covered arms.

“You are a genius.”

“I try.”

Hawkeye pushes the door open gently with his shoulder, and the two of them make their way out. The rain is lighter than before, but Hawkeye’s hair is still plastered to his face in under thirty seconds. He nudges Trapper with his shoulder. “Y’know, I bet the supply shed is free of occupants right now.”

Trapper grins and opens his mouth, and then Frank’s voice cuts through the night. “You- you rotten bastards!”

Hawkeye raises his eyebrows at Trapper, who looks like he’s about to bust a gut in fighting to contain his laughter, and then they take off running.

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading!!


End file.
